


Of Time And Technology

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, hologram character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time had become a massive concept for Michael when Gavin had passed away. As much he tried to avoid thinking of that deeply embedded memory in his head, it always reoccurred. Because deep down he knew Gavin was the one who’d forever take up the time and space in his head. And he still did - even if he’d been and gone now.<br/>More than one time, in that sense.<br/>[Hologram!Gavin. AU.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Time had become a massive concept for Michael when Gavin had passed away. As much he tried to avoid thinking of that deeply embedded memory in his head, it always reoccurred. Because deep down he knew Gavin was the one who’d forever take up the time and space in his head. And he still did - even if he’d been and gone now._

_More than one time, in that sense._

_So many things seemed to relate back to that huge, but mostly ignored concept. Time. Gavin had been far too young when he died that April. It had been one of the biggest blows Michael could ever remember, not just to him, but to everyone around him. It had hurt more than anything he’d experienced in his life. And it still stung. Every single day._

_What had been a pain on the lungs had become an infection, and no matter what progression the doctor’s seemed to make, it was never enough. It was aggressive, and relentless. And although Gavin had tried to force himself not to deteriorate for Michael and fight for the life that was slipping out of his reach - it never worked._

_As much as he tried not to succumb to lung infection - a month was all it took._

_A recurring illness and a month was all it had taken for Gavin to be ripped away from the world. Michael had been left with such a gaping hole in his chest that day, he almost thought that he’d died with him._ _Only Gavin had been given the hope that it wouldn’t be his last look on the world._

_With just one progression in technology, one signature on paper, and a little bit of time._

_Michael almost laughs when he thinks of it now, because it seemed so surreal. And just so **Gavin**. The idea that he’d been so stubborn that he refused to completely leave with things left unsaid, even if his heart had truly and irreversibly stopped beating. He just wanted some trace of his thoughts, what was in essence him, to go on for a little longer. ‘Make up for lost time’, as Gavin had first put it. There were many people who had been against the technology at the time, and Michael had almost feared that Gavin’s last wish wouldn’t make it through for legal reasons._

_Michael still didn’t understand how they’d advanced technology so far to be able to bring a small part of Gavin back, but not enough to save him. That idea still kept him up at night, raw with anger and frustration and a bitter emptiness that could never be filled again. He still couldn’t snap himself out of his delusion. Because even with the pain that it had brought along, with wounds that were healing and then torn open with no warning - he still thought it was better that way. Just to see Gavin again. Just once._

_Michael still couldn’t decide which time had hurt the most._

_At a night like this, laying in bed with only his thoughts and pictures of Gavin by his bedside as a comfort, the memories never left him. He tried to relax, and let his eyes settle on the framed photographs and felt his chest ache. The same ache that always reminded him that he had been left - vacant and alone._

_The pictures were both of Gavin, but there was one small difference that Michael could never get away from, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself the replica would still be better than the empty space next to him. There was something so wrong in Gavin's features, but he couldn't find the strength to get rid of the picture._

_Gavin’s bright-green eyes shone with barely contained laughter in the photo closest to his bed. His arm was around a scarcely-younger picture of himself, tight and safe around his lower back._

_In the other, Michael couldn’t see past the almost glowing blue tint around Gavin’s form, and the dead look in his eyes. He'd been holding Michael’s hand tightly, but he knew that the touch had been numb. Almost like static had protected Gavin’s fake body. Both of their smiles seemed tainted by something. Only Michael knew what. He just wished they could have been happy in both of Gavin’s lives._

_Even if it had spoken every word and had every thought Michael would have ever expected from Gavin, it just wasn’t the same as his warm embraces and careful touches. Gavin's laughter had become mechanic and forced, and his eyes never shone with anything but artificial light._

_Although the technology had emerged, just a year after, where Gavin had been able to touch and interact with things around him, it just wasn’t the same. The hologram hadn’t been Gavin, and it never would have been. Even the artificial version of Gavin had realised that eventually._

_Nights like this, Michael didn’t blame Gavin for what he ended up doing. Ever since the day he'd been recreated, his feelings began to hurt him in a way it never should have and the time spent together didn’t seem so precious anymore. It felt wrong, and empty. Useless and tiring. An unsettled and painful part of him had been discovered and made vulnerable that day._

_But Michael still found that in these low months, he wished the hologram was still here, if only for the relief and the comfort it had brought. Yet the hologram hadn’t been the person he loved. It had been fake._

_Michael still missed Gavin to the end of time and back. But he’d learned the hard way that sometimes, time just had to stop._

_Even if not for him._

  
**…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...**  


   “I just don’t get it.” Michael muttered through the podcast, looking between his boss and Gavin like it was a tennis match.

   “I can’t even get my head around it.” Burnie chuckled, flicking through pages on his laptop and making faces. The more he read, the more strange the idea become. What blew his mind the most though, was that what he was reading was real and in effect across the country.

   “So, they can convert your memories and the stuff in your head so they can _simulate_ you? That can’t be possible.” Gavin’s face was a picture of confusion by that point, legging bobbing up and down in time to the rampant thoughts and questions filling his head like a film reel.

   “I’ve told you a million times, Gavin, it’s been on the news. They basically make you into a hologram.”

   “That is top!” Gavin’s smile grew and he leant forward in his seat, watching Burnie intently as he muttered bits from the article they’d been asked to discuss. Their twitter feed was rampant throughout the podcast, Burnie laughing as he flicked from article to tweets and trying to answer some of the things being sent in.

   “That _is_ pretty sweet. So you can basically live forever?” Michael’s eyes were back on his boss, now. He found himself wanting to know more, though he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why.

   “How is that sweet?” Burnie asked incredulously, looking at the pair on the couch like they’d grown a second head. Gus started shaking his head and laughed.

   “You’d just be like a living brain. You couldn’t even touch anything. What’s the point?” Gus argued.

   “But I thought you said that they were working on something so the hologram or whatever could touch stuff?”

   “Yeah, but c’mon, they’re not going to make that the next monthly installment or whatever. It’d take years.”

Michael piped up. “But if you’re a hologram you’re gunna have enough time to wait for it all to come out, like the time it’d take would matter.”

   “Exactly, Michael!” Gavin grinned, glad that at least someone was agreeing with him. “Don’t you think it’d be cool? It’d mean you’d never die, you could just live on...but as a computer.”

The group laughed and Burnie shook his head. “You’re not going to be a walking PC, Gavin.”

Gavin laughed and took a swig from his drink. “So you’d be like a projection? Is that what you said?”

   “I told you probably three times now. _Yes_.”

   “I wasn’t listening.”

   “Wow, big surprise, _Gavin_.” Michael’s sarcasm laced voice caused the Brit to laugh again, swinging his beer side to side loosely in one hand and stifling a cough with his free one. He’d been struggling to get rid of it for the past week and wondered if he was getting a cold. Once he stopped wheezing with a slap on the back, courtesy of Michael, he spoke up again.

   “I think I’d sign up for that.” He swallowed, ridding himself of the burning running through his throat and barely noticing the metallic taste that accompanied it. “You can ask to be made into one if you’re sick, can’t you?”

   “No, you wouldn’t!” Gus retorted, interrupting Gavin’s protests. “You would _not_ ask to be a hologram. There is no fucking way you’d sign up for that.” Burnie laughed as Gus ripped Gavin to pieces, not believing or agreeing with a single word.

   “But it’s a top idea. I’m telling you!”

   “There is no way you’d be on your death bed and sign up for that. What kind of life is that?” Gus continued to rant, slapping Gavin down with every reply the Brit had. He was having none of it. As the discussion got more and more heated, Michael tried to cut the tension.

   “Gavin doesn’t _let_ himself get sick anyway, he’ll fuckin’ live forever unless he gets ran over by a truck or some shit.”

The group laughed at Michael’s comment, who laughed himself as Gavin gave him a swift elbow to the ribs. He gave the Brit a small smile, their eyes meeting for the briefest of moments, before turning back to Gus who wanted to talk about a new form of arcade game release that month that featured holographic technology.

  
**…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...**  


Months past that podcast, and no one seemed to bring up the topic again. The only time it ever filtered into conversation was on the off chance that someone had seen a news report, mostly about the governments protest against the hologram technology being put into hospitals globally. Or at a push, another article on how quickly the technology was being produced, tested and then pitched to the government at any given chance.

The first two appeals lost, but not the third.

No one at RoosterTeeth ever realised just how much they’d have to think about this new advancement until it was far too late.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time had become a massive concept for Michael when Gavin had passed away. As much he tried to avoid thinking of that deeply embedded memory in his head, it always reoccurred. Because deep down he knew Gavin was the one who’d forever take up the time and space in his head. And he still did - even if he’d been and gone now.  
> More than one time, in that sense.  
> [Hologram!Gavin. AU.]

When Gavin started to phone in sick during the first week of his illness, no one batted an eyelid apart from Michael. He’d had the odd day off for the flu or a bad stomach, and this time it seemed no different. Just a chest infection was all Gavin, or anyone for that matter, knew by then. But something uneasy settled within Michael when he asked Geoff if he could visit, and he said no.

   “It’s not like I’m gunna be long, Geoff. I just want to see how he’s doing.”

   “I know, dude. But he needs some sleep. He’s been up all night for the past four days. He’ll back at work soon.” Geoff paused, as though reconsidering, before his expression returned to normal. “You’re worrying too much.”

   “Well you’re not making me feel that way when you won’t let me see how he is. It’s like your avoiding it.” Michael’s temper was rising in peaks. All he wanted was a quick visit, he wasn’t asking much. He’d been fed up all week without having Gavin around, and now he couldn’t even visit him? He noticed Ray leave the room out of the corner of his eye, and wondered if his emotions matched his facial expression.

Geoff sighed and shook his head, trying to avoid eye contact. “I know you guys have gotten close or whatever, but he just needs to rest as much as possible. He hasn’t slept in fucking days. Anyway, Millie’s already worried. If she sees you visiting him she’ll think something’s wrong.”

At that, Michael didn’t have much space to argue. One because he didn’t want to focus in on the way Geoff had mentioned how close they were, and two because he knew Millie cared a lot about Gavin. He was a lot of people’s weak spot, Michael knew that especially well. Plus, he knew he’d be intruding, and by the sounds of it Gavin was worse than he thought. “Fine, whatever. I can at least call him, right?”

   “Well I can’t stop you. I don’t know whether he’ll answer though. He was fast asleep when me and Griffon left this morning.”

As much as Michael wanted Gavin to get better, he didn’t want to go without a phone call. It felt like centuries since they’d last talked. He decided to leave it until lunch and see if he could lure him into a quick chat. As it turned out, speaking with Gavin didn’t manage to settle his worries at all.

Michael could barely hear Gavin’s voice as he spoke, and if he talked for too long a coughing fit started and it sounded as though his lungs were giving up on him, wheezing for breath. All his usual excitement and enthusiasm had been stripped, leaving him sounding tired and strained. Michael’s stomach churned uncomfortably.

   “Shit, Gavin. You sound terrible.”

   “Sorry. It’s this chest infection, I can’t stop coughing.”

   “I should have called in a few days. Sorry, Gav.”

   “Why don’t you come visit, I’m sure Geo-“ Gavin was cut off by his voice trailing away, breaking and coughing again, leaving him breathless. Michael cut him off anyway, feeling bad that Gavin was struggling so much to speak and taking over of the conversation.

   “I asked. He says I should leave you to sleep it off.”

   “What a knob.” Gavin chuckled lightly, cutting the noise off once his chest began to burn and his eyes began to water a little with surprised coughs. He shuffled back in bed, hoping the position would ease his lungs slightly.

   “I’ll let you get back to sleep-“

   “But Michael-“

   “Shut up, you sound terrible. I’ll text you later if that makes you feel any better.”

Though Michael couldn’t see it, Gavin smiled down the other line and absently wiped his mouth with the back of his hand out of habit. It was a comfort just to hear Michael’s voice after so many days, and finding that he was more concerned than anyone was a plus. The simple idea that Michael cared filled his chest up and almost drowned out the burning in his lungs – _almost_ , at least.

   “Yeah, that sounds alright.”

Gavin’s smile faded, however, when he finally licked his chapped lips. The metallic taste of copper washed over his tongue and he stared down to his hand, examining it. Smeared drops of red marred his skin. Assuming that he’d bit his lip or his gums were bleeding, he tried to ignore it. But deep down Gavin knew that much blood wouldn’t come from such a small cut. A cold sweat broke out across his body.

    “Gav?” Michael’s voice muttered from the other end of the line, sounding a mix of worried and annoyed. “You still there?”

    “Yeah, sorry. Promise me you’ll text, Michael? I miss you, you pleb.”

Michael felt his cheeks burn as he replied. “You know I will, Gav. Miss you too, dude.”

   “Great. I’ll talk to you later. I’m really tired all of a sudden.”

   “Yeah, go get some rest.”

Michael’s voice was hit with silence, leaving both of them waiting to hand up. It was almost tense but at the same time easy and comfortable. There were always those words on Michael’s lips that he felt like he should be saying. Everytime their calls ended or the work day finished, there was that urge to say just one more thing, but neither ever had the guts. And probably never would.

   “Bye, Michael.”

   “See you, Gav.”

Both of them were filled with the same thought as the line clicked. _Maybe next time._

As soon as Michael put the phone down, Gavin flung his mobile onto the bed and stumbled to the bathroom. The taste of blood wouldn’t leave his mouth, and every time he coughed it appeared to worsen. Vertigo blurred his vision for a brief moment as he braced himself against the doorway of the bathroom. Taking in sight of the mirror, he could barely recognize himself. His skin was pale and clammy and lips stained and cracked. From what he could see, he had no broken skin and he could feel that his gums weren’t sore. He washed his hands quickly, using the tap water to clean his mouth and tried to forget about it.

But as he coughed again whilst covering his mouth, he found that the blood had returned to his hands.

  
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A week had passed since Gavin’s absence, and between texting and short phone calls, Michael knew he really wasn’t well. Gavin seemed to plead for Michael to come visit him and keep him company while the Ramsey’s were out, and even confessed in the dead of night when he couldn’t sleep, that he was scared because his chest hurt so much.

  
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-       _Are you up?  
_

-       _well now i am, why?  
_

-       _Sorry. Can’t sleep at all.  
_

-       _what’s wrong?  
_

-       _My chest won’t stop burning, Michael. It’s doing my head in.  
_

-       _you gunna be okay?  
_

-       _Yeah.  
_

-       _you sure?  
_

-       _Yes  
_

-       _stop lying asshole  
_

-       _It’s scaring me a little bit  
_

-       _wake geoff up  
_

-       _No, I’ve woken him and Griff up nearly every day, it’s not like they can do anything.  
_

-       _wake them up or I’ll ring the fucking house  
_

-       _Don’t you dare. I’ll be fine  
_

-       _do you want me to call you?  
_

-       _No, it’s okay. Go back to sleep. Sorry.  
_

-       _call me later?  
_

-       _Fine. Night Michael  
_

-       _night gavino  
_

  
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But as much as he tried, Geoff wouldn’t let him visit. He supposed it was some kind of fatherly instinct, but it didn’t make Michael feel any better. Geoff seemed adamant to keep Gavin resting, especially after a doctor had demanded he be bed-ridden for as long as possible - Michael didn’t have a chance of visiting. Instead, he tried to cope with comforting messages and being woken up to calls in the middle of the night - straining to hear above the coughing - and hoped that Gavin didn’t take it to heart.

Eventually, Michael tried to stop worrying so badly since it was becoming blatantly obvious that even a close friend wouldn’t be this scared over a week or so off. For the first few days, Geoff and Ray had taken their turns in turning it into a little joke, over how Michael ‘missed his boyfriend’. But there came a point where Geoff had stopped, and Ray had taken the hint they shouldn’t joke anymore. What worried Michael the most, was that it hadn’t been because of his own irritation. Geoff just seemed to think things just weren’t a joke anymore, and in the end he was right.

The more time went on, the more tired and worn out Geoff was beginning to look. It seemed as though he hadn’t slept in days, and three times he’d gone home early, Burnie watching as he left with his own anxious frown. Michael seemed to ask everyday how he was doing, and the answer was always the same.

   “Yeah, I’m fine. Just Gavin, y’know.” He’d pause then, as though considering. “He’s kept us up all night with his coughing again. The laugh that followed was brittle and forced, and there was something in Geoff’s expression that told Michael it wasn’t that simple.

It only took another day, a few missed phone calls and messages without replies, to confirm that.

  
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   “Hey, Geoff. I need to ask you something.”

Michael let his voice trail off as he saw his boss. He was staring at his phone and running a hand across his jaw, looking nothing less than lost and worried. His eyes seemed to scream out at him, and Michael felt a weight drop in his stomach. He already knew. Deep down he could already hear the words before Geoff muttered them.

   “Geoff?”

It was as though the older man was on a time delay, and took a moment to collect his thoughts before he swallowed, seeming to snap back into the present. “Griffon just phoned me.”

Michael could feel the dread of the news before he even heard it

   “They’ve had to take Gavin into hospital. He’s in intensive care.”

Time came to a standstill and held Michael captive in that moment for longer than he’d ever want. He tried to reason with himself, that it wasn’t so bad and that it wasn’t that big a deal. People went in and out of hospital all the time. He’d be surrounded by people who knew what they were doing. He’d be safe. Gavin had to be fucking safe. Stuff like that didn’t happen to people like him. But Geoff’s stare and the break in his voice spoke it all. They knew, both of them did.

   “It’s not good, Michael.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time had become a massive concept for Michael when Gavin had passed away. As much he tried to avoid thinking of that deeply embedded memory in his head, it always reoccurred. Because deep down he knew Gavin was the one who’d forever take up the time and space in his head. And he still did - even if he’d been and gone now.  
> More than one time, in that sense.  
> [Hologram!Gavin. AU.]

Michael would never forget the first time he saw Gavin wired up to those machines. His face was deathly pale and expression vacant. He wouldn’t have recognized him if it wasn’t for his name printed on a clip-board of medical notes. He should have wanted to cry, or scream, _anything_ to get the shock out. And the tears did want to fall, but his dazed mind wouldn’t let them. The scream was so close to falling from his mouth, but it wouldn’t sink in. None of it would. The minute Geoff saw the sight, he had to leave and sit with Griffon outside, the wave of hurt so plain across his face. Michael couldn’t even react. He stood there for the longest time, in limbo between sobbing and running.

He was alone, sat in a chair by his wired up friend who should be something closer than that but he never had the courage to bring it up. Right then, all Michael could think about was how he’d wasted their time together like it was the most common thing in the world. That was when the tears threatened to start falling. All Michael could do was heave in breathes of air, hoping beyond anything that he wouldn’t let himself come undone right here. All he could think was how Gavin would have laughed at him. If he was awake. If he wasn’t struggling to breathe.

   “Christ, Gavin.” Michael’s words seemed foreign coming from his own mouth, breaking from barely contained hurt. He pressed his hands into his eyes, taking in a shuddering breath and letting the silence of the room encase him. The gentle sounds of oxygen being filtered into Gavin’s damaged lungs filled his ears, almost lulling him half-asleep. He seemed to sit there for centuries, only daring to glance at Gavin every so often and then the pain would take over again. The only thing that stopped him from sobbing was the surreality of it all. Things like this just didn’t happen to Gavin. That ever-optimistic façade Gavin seemed to infect people with must have affected him more than he realised. He was completely deluded, and yet things were becoming more and more real as Gavin’s infection spread unnoticed.

It had to have been half an hour before Geoff came shuffling back into the room, his eyes looking more tired than he’d ever seen them and notably bloodshot. Michael sat back in his chair. For some reason his whole body seemed to ache. He tried not to focus on it too much, instead looking in Geoff’s direction as he pulled up a seat next to him.

   “I can’t believe this has happened to him.”

The words seemed to hit Michael on a delay, sinking in painfully slowly. He barely even recognised Geoff’s voice, never mind his own right now. For a minute, he didn’t trust himself to speak. But then that thought of how Gavin would have reacted to his state seemed to rebuild some strength in him.

   “Of all the people.”

There was no humour in their voices. Just a sickening sense of dread, filling the room up with even more tension than what had settled before. Michael’s eyes returned to Gavin’s pale face and the feeble rise and fall of his chest. He didn’t want to move his eyes away, feeling like Gavin’s heart-beat would stop that repetitive pattern if he turned away. The words that followed caught his attention, however. And feelings that Michael had otherwise tried to ignore began to slot into place.

   “Are you going to be alright, Michael?”

There was so much more behind those words than the literal meaning. He mulled them over, feeling his mind kick into over drive and he realised his chest was hurting. Words left his mouth before he even thought about them.

   “I’ll be fine.”

Geoff didn’t look so convinced. And in truth, the words didn’t even convince himself. As an afterthought, he added:

   “He’ll be fine, Geoff. It’s just an infection.”

He could hope, at the very least. But call it paranoia, something didn’t settle well with him, and the concerned look in Geoff’s eyes seemed to emphasise it. His head tried to reason and come to some comforting conlusion. Gavin was strong, he wouldn’t let such a small illness take him without a fight. And yet as his eyes raked over the paleness of his face and the shudder in his breaths, he felt his chest constrict with a weight he couldn’t quite pinpoint as simply concern.

If Gavin didn’t recover, he wouldn’t be fine. Nothing would anymore. He knew that much.

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Gavin barely even moved that following week. Every now and then, his eye lids would flicker for a brief moment, his fingers twitching as though in the middle of a dream, and then nothing. Michael got his hopes up every single time, but for a full week, nothing ever came of it. It wasn’t until eight days had passed with not even a sign of Gavin waking up, that the Brit finally opened his eyes. Dull and tired, and completely void of that usual brightness that Michael loved so much.

He could feel the burning running across his lungs and throat, like he’d been set on fire from the inside. His skin felt as though it was freezing cold, but sweat seemed to bead across his forehead. His head took a lifetime to catch up, all the while barely registering the voices calling out to him, familiar but his head was too clouded to figure out who. His eyes fixed to the ceiling, blurred and half-lidded and no light at all in them. The minutes dragged on as his head finally clunked into gear, and as soon as he felt the oxygen mask across his face, he started to panic a little.

Michael stood from his chair and moved to the bedside, watching as Gavin began to shuffle under the white sheets, head lolling side to side almost deliriously before spotting him. In an instant, Gavin’s voice tried to mumble under the mask, and he could just about make out the strained name, hushed but that familiar accent ringing out all the same.

   “Michael…?”

Questions rang out from that voice, and his eyes spoke the rest. Despite being near-comatose for over a week, his face looked gaunt and exhausted, Michael could feel his heart constrict and his throat tighten at the sight. Before he even realised, his hand was running through Gavin’s damp hair, using  a soothing voice that was so unnatural to him, but felt right to do all the same.

   “It’s alright, Gav. I’ve got you.”

Gavin felt a surge of pain run across his chest and up his throat, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before nodding his head, looking up at Michael and not letting him out of his sight. He was more scared than he’d ever been. His head just couldn’t seem to remember what had happened.

   “Do you want me to get Geoff?” Michael asked, not liking the panicked look shifting through Gavin’s pale features. For a while, the Brit didn’t respond. He wanted to see Geoff, but he didn’t want to be left alone. Not even for a minute. After a while, his heart-beat seemed to slow and he finally croaked out a few words.

   “Michael?” He paused, even such a small word winding him in an instant. “Geoff-“

Michael knew and didn’t make him say anything else. His hand removed itself from Gavin’s hair and he moved to the door, walking as fast as he could to the waiting room at the end of the ward. All the while Gavin stared at his surroundings, dazed and petrified, and tried not to make his burning lungs hurt even more.

When Geoff and Griffon arrived, Gavin looked close to passing out again, he eyes drooped and staring absently at the ceiling. Griffon let out a mix between a gasp and a sigh, looking at Gavin sympathetically and feeling her eyes well up. It was a relief to see him look in her direction and smile a little, though the gesture was tainted with hurt.

Michael stood back as Geoff and Griffon moved to his bedside, Griffon placing a hand on Gavin’s forehead and muttering words Michael didn’t quiet hear. He felt a wave of protectiveness cross over him as they asked him how he was and if he needed a nurse, seeing that tired look in Gavin’s eyes.

   “Way to scare us, Gav.” Geoff’s voice broke slightly, but fond all the same as he smiled in return to Gavin’s attempt at a short laugh. Griffon kept muttering over and over how she was just so glad he was awake. Michael found it surreal. Just minutes ago he’d been practically unresponsive, and now he was trying his hardest to smile and respond, even if his lungs were still infected.

After a while, Michael decided he needed a little air and left the room, reminding himself to find a doctor and tell them Gavin was awake first. He didn’t even notice the Brit watching as he left, willing him not to leave with his eyes.

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For the next few days, Gavin seemed to recover thick and fast. The colour began to return to his cheeks and he was able to have a decent conversation without falling into fits of coughs and wheezes, even going so far as to laugh himself breathless, though it unnerved Michael every time. He’d spent most of his time with Gavin, nearly every day, when he thinks about it. The whole ordeal had scared him out of his wits and brought about an all too tangible reality that some day he’d have to face. He tried to push away he fears. After all, Gavin was better now.

   “Michael, I’m bored.”

   “You say this _every_ time, Gavin. What can I do? Hospitals aren’t exactly the most entertaining places on Earth.”

Gavin seemed to pause for a minute, stretching out on the stark-white bed and yawning. He still seemed to be exhausted almost constantly, like his body had been drained. His smirk returned to his face soon enough.

   “I have a plan, right-“

   “-Jesus Christ…”

   “You go steal some wheel-chairs, yeah? We can have a race and-“

   “-you’re a fucking idiot.” Michael shook his head, Gavin’s laughter ringing out and becoming contagious and he couldn’t help but join him, revelling in the light finally returning to Gavin’s eyes. When he started coughing again however, Michael’s smile faded out; replaced by the horrible feeling that something wasn’t right, like he was scared to get his hopes up.

When Gavin slowly regulated his breathing, chest rising and falling deeply, he caught Michael’s worried stare and didn’t know whether he was happy to see him so caring, or upset over just how stressed out he was getting over his illness. But one thing he did know, was that he hated seeing Michael look at him that way.

   “I’m alright, Michael.”

Michael nodded slowly, eyes still caught in Gavin’s stare as a silence drifted between them. “Yeah. You just worried me, y’know?”

Gavin couldn’t stop the smile at that, and for a moment something new passed between them. Some silent understanding that they really did care about each other. And even if neither was ready to face the implications of that, it was enough to comfort both their minds, for now. Gavin shuffled further up the mattress to rest his back on a pile of pillows, breaking the tense air.

   “Aww, my little Michael cares about me.”

Michael laughed, ignoring the wave of heat across his cheeks. “You’re my boy, Gav.”

It seemed as though everything had gone back to normal. Even if Gavin’s cough didn’t seem to be leaving, at least he could talk without losing all his breath and he didn’t look so exhausted. As the days passed by, Michael was glad he visited every day, making sure that their time together wasn’t wasted. Even if Gavin’s constant joking wound him up to the ends of the Earth, he came to look forward to stepping into that dreary hospital with all those bitter patients, even if only for half an hour of time with the Brit. Gavin’s constant enthusiasm and forced smiles were eventually enough to keep Michael’s hopes up.

Michael never noticed that there was no mention of Gavin being discharged from the hospital any time soon. He never noticed that Gavin had to start coughing into tissues again, throwing them straight into the bin with crimson stains adorning them. He barely even noticed when Gavin’s face began to pale again, all because the Brit was determined not to let the rising fire across his lungs burn him out. And so that smile stuck in place, and he tried harder than he’d ever done before to stay awake and to keep the mask up. He didn't want to see that scared look in Michael's eyes again.

No one who visited him seemed know that he was deteriorating again, and by then even Gavin didn’t know the full extent of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time had become a massive concept for Michael when Gavin had passed away. As much he tried to avoid thinking of that deeply embedded memory in his head, it always reoccurred. Because deep down he knew Gavin was the one who’d forever take up the time and space in his head. And he still did - even if he’d been and gone now.  
> More than one time, in that sense.  
> [Hologram!Gavin. AU.]

Gavin finally started to realize there was something wrong when he has a visit in the hospital by a specialist of sorts. A small part of him hoped he was about to be discharged, but a bigger part of him knew that wasn’t the case at all. Gavin wasn’t entirely stupid, he was getting more tired every day, talking less every hour and the burning in his chest seemed to worsen as every second went by. Yet a part of him, be it courage or force of will, tried to convince himself he was okay. For the longest time, he tried to refuse the oxygen mask they offered him and claimed he didn’t feel so bad. And yet here he was, wearing it every chance he got by now. The only time he took it off was when he saw Michael. He’d do anything to keep that worried look from his face, even if it meant lying about his welfare. The spark of optimism Gavin had been known for was dwindling, and on one of the last days he’d spend in hospital, it was almost put out.

   “Good morning, Mr. Free.”

Gavin didn’t recognize the woman at all. She was dressed in a black knee-length skirt and a white shirt with stone-cold eyes and an even harder expression. He choked out a greeting and watched as her eyes crinkled, hating that sympathetic look so much and yet as the days passed on it was more common than ever. There was something almost sinister about her gaze, discomforting and guarded as though she was creating a barrier between them. Gavin knew what was coming but tried to reel his mind back at the same, trying not to panic and fall apart mentally, because God knows he was physically.

   “I was wondering if it was alright to have a quick chat to you this morning, in regards to some of your aftercare and whatnot?”

Gavin nodded, and wondered how he’d ever manage to even answer her when the fire running down his throat and lungs seemed to get worse with each breath. She seemed to almost know what was on his mind before he ever tried to voice it.

   “I understand it may be difficult for you to talk to me right now, so feel free to just listen, I won’t be offended.” The smile on her face was tight and false – Gavin didn’t feel comforted by it. When she retrieved a booklet and a set of documents, Gavin’s assumptions were confirmed. Because as soon as his tired eyes cast down onto the paper, he saw the symbol, and suddenly memories began flooding back to him.

  
**…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...**  


_“So, they can convert your memories and the stuff in your head so they can simulate you? That can’t be possible.” Gavin’s face was a picture of confusion by that point, legging bobbing up and down in time to the rampant thoughts and questions filling his head like a film reel._

_“I’ve told you a million times, Gavin, it’s been on the news. They basically make you into a hologram.”_

  
**…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...**  


His heart began to race at the prospect whilst trying to control his breathing, he wouldn’t crumble yet - not when he’d been so strong. The woman seemed to notice his breath hitch and Gavin could swear he saw a glimpse of genuine concern across her face, and that stone-cold look softened. Leaning back in the chair, she laced her own fingers together and settled them across her lap as though thinking of what to say. It wasn’t long before the drone of Gavin’s oxygen tank was broken.

   “Mr. Free, as I think you know, the government’s newly enforced regulations state that we have to offer you our new form of insurance, so-to-speak. And considering your health at the given time, it’s crucial that we make these arrangements if you do wish accept them.” Her voice was near-monotonous as she drawled, but there was a tint of hesitancy to her voice. Gavin shifted his position and tried to move upwards. All the while his glazed eyes lay upon her, watching and listening intently as she spoke.

   “I trust you understand what our scheme offers?”

Gavin nodded then, his aching frame screaming in resistance but he moved his head all the same, a small wheeze could be heard as he muttered the almost foreign sounding word from his mouth. “Holograms, right?” His stomach dropped again as she nodded.

   “Unlike other life care schemes, we provide something a little different than just financial help.” The woman paused again, as though wrapping her head around it herself. ”The Hologram project is able to convert what data we can collect of you _now_ and let you interact with your friends and family even if you happen to pass away.” Gavin noticed how her voice trailed away at the end. He nodded sluggishly. He knew a lot about the project from what he’d picked up on that podcast and through the news.

The woman shuffled forward in her seat and tapped the booklet and documents that were now sitting on the table next to Gavin’s bed.

   “We’ve got all the information you need to know about the project in here, but just to give you an idea of the procedure, all that we have to do is run a brain scan for twenty-four hours to collect data, and a physical scan, which should only take at the most twenty minutes and then we store it into one of our holographic devices. We won’t have to move you out of your ward and you won’t need any medicals and things like that. Just some signatures.”

She eventually sat back, looking at Gavin as he slowly sifted through the booklet, even though he knew his mind was already set. He’d had a lot of time to think about this - an idea that he never thought would pass his conscious again. He noticed her stand up, leaving the documents he needed to sign with him.

   “I should be off.” She muttered. “I’ll be visiting again tomorrow morning, so you can have some time to think over it. As well, if you have any questions there’s a number on the front.”

   “Thanks.” His answer was short, but all she needed to depart. A hollow feeling settled over him as he ran through pages upon pages of information. What the brain scan did, what information would be stored, how the system worked. It was frightening, but oddly comforting. It scared him to think that he’d be revived in some way, even if just a representation of himself. But in the same sense, it’d mean he’d never have to leave. He’d never have to hurt anyone.

He'd never have to see Michael look so lost again.

That evening, as the nurse cleared away food he’d barely even touched, he asked for a pen and if she could help him with the papers.

  
**…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...** **…   ...**  


Gavin never mentioned about his visitor, and even if Michael had his silent and painful assumptions – he never asked. He still visited every day he could, and for a while they both managed to convince themselves that nothing was wrong. Even if Gavin couldn’t laugh so much and Michael did most of the talking, that veil of denial managed to wash over them if only for a brief expanse of time.

It was only when Michael walked in one morning and found a piece of equipment just behind Gavin’s bed, that the reality managed to ebb it’s way inside again. Because that icy-blue logo caught his eye quicker than the machine’s foreboding appearance, and the connotations behind that logo were frightening in more than one sense. Gavin noticed Michael’s lingering glare as he sat down next to him, and when the two caught each other’s gaze again, Gavin made sure to smile until Michael smiled back, his eyes holding that softer gaze that was shining brighter each time he visited Gavin at the hospital, even past the worry his eyes held. As tired as the Brit was, he tried to talk, ignoring how his chest almost seemed to clamp up.

   “What? No grapes?”

Michael grinned and laughed at that, shuffling his chair forward so he could hear Gavin better above the drone of machines and to make it easier on his friend to speak.

   “Not today, asshole. I’ve bought a lifetime’s worth since you’ve been in here.”

Gavin grinned lazily and shuffled to scoot closer the bed’s edge, wanting to be as near to Michael as possible. His eyes wouldn’t leave Michael’s face, as though he was training them on his features. The silence that filled the room up, although lingering with unasked and unanswered questions, was comfortable for then. Gavin just wished he could be nearer to Michael, and that he’d talk even if he had nothing to say. He wanted anything to distract himself from the pain and the prospect of what was to happen to him that night. His tired smile faded at that, and that all too common sense of worry began to seep into his head.

Michael must have noticed, and something seemed to break in the room as his hand shifted to grip onto Gavin’s wire-riddled one. Almost gently, Michael squeezed as though this was normal for them, and numbly, Gavin’s own hand squeezed back as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Michael must have known then, because he started to chat about things at work and how people missed him, as though keeping that ominous tension away.

   “Ray’s been asking about you, y’know?” Michael started, moving his gaze from Gavin’s fading eyes to their interlaced fingers.

   “He keeps complaining about how quiet it is.” He heard Gavin laugh distantly.

   “Can’t be quiet if you’re there.” He muttered, and Michael smiled, though the look was tainted. The office really wasn’t as full of life as it was before. Somehow, everyone seemed to have a collective conscious that Gavin wasn’t coming back to work, and although Michael still didn’t believe that, he couldn’t help but fall into some kind of grieving like the rest of them.

   “Geoff’s complaining that he has no one to bully either. He’s started picking on us a lot more in Let’s Plays, just cause your ass isn’t there to annoy him.” He heard Gavin chuckle again, and even if the noise was breathless, he’d do anything to keep hearing that noise, just to know he was there. It was as though the veil was lifting, and as his hand began to shake slightly he realised that the gravity of the situation was beginning to hit him, all from seeing that one, hologram-like logo.

Gavin listened intently, and nudged Michael’s arm as his expression changed a little. Michael failed to mention that this was how they’d reacted when Gavin had _first_ been off sick. He failed to mention how Geoff was acting like he was losing a child. He failed to mention how everyone’s laughter seemed to die out so quickly now, even if he wasn’t on their minds. He failed to mention how scared he actually was, and how he thought something inside of him was falling apart. Michael could never bring himself to voice any of that, and at the time, he didn’t think it would matter. But it’d only take a week for him to realise how much he should have said, while he still could.

Trapped in his thoughts, he never noticed how Gavin tried to sit up, looking worried and concerned even past the pain in his eyes and the paleness of his skin.

   “Michael?” he muttered, repeating it until the other looked up. He stopped for a moment, noticing the other's hardened expression and the tightness of his grip. He felt that same sense of protection wash over him again. Gavin wished he didn’t have to see that lost expression so often, it killed a part of him every single time. Even if he could taste the oncoming bitterness of blood in his mouth again, he let himself speak.

   “It’ll be alright. Don’t worry.”

For then, that was all Michael needed to have that veil pulled over him once more, deceiving and covering reality, but comforting all the same.

Before Michael left that afternoon, something compelled him to linger that little longer, to just look at Gavin and speak to him for just a second more. Call it fate or intuition, it was as though he knew _something_ was going to happen. By the time he went to leave, Gavin was falling in and out of consciousness as he had done many times before now, struggling between staying awake and passing out.

Gavin only just registered the press of lips against his forehead, but remembered feeling the heat of where Michael had been. The last thought in his head before he passed out was that he wanted to feel that touch for lifetimes and back. And when Michael walked out of the hospital, feeling a sense of loneliness hit him almost instantly, he decided that tomorrow he'd tell Gavin how he felt - if just as a safety net. Neither of them knew that they'd never get that chance.

Because as Michael walked to his car that afternoon, and as Gavin prepared to undergo his scans, the time to confess to what was in their minds and hearts - had run out.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time had become a massive concept for Michael when Gavin had passed away. As much he tried to avoid thinking of that deeply embedded memory in his head, it always reoccurred. Because deep down he knew Gavin was the one who’d forever take up the time and space in his head. And he still did - even if he’d been and gone now.  
> More than one time, in that sense.  
> [Hologram!Gavin. AU.]

When Gavin next woke up, he could sense that something was different in more than one manner, and almost instantly he was frightened.  For once in his life he was genuinely terrified, and the feeling filled him up like some kind of poison in his blood. Even as he opened and strained his eyes, the images were blurred and faded. Above him was a large, metallic device that he vaguely realised he _should_ recall, but couldn’t think of the name. He felt too hot, sweating and panting, but also too cold, shivering beneath the thin cotton sheets of his hospital bed. That pain in his chest was almost crippling and too much to bear, he gulped air helplessly and turned his head, trying to figure everything out – but his thoughts were sluggish and delayed. He almost felt relived when he saw shapes moving back and forth in his distorted vision, and finally his ears seemed to be back on line. Fingers began curling across his face, and for the briefest of moments Michael’s name almost fell across his lips.

But then he felt the mechanical rhythm of air being pushed in and out of his lungs again and realised his mask was back on. Slowly, his head began to catch up again, and something inside of him screamed that something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t listen. Even as the burning in his lungs seemed to rip every ounce of air from him, he still wanted to live.

  “Mr. Free? We’ll be running your physical scan in just a moment, is that still alright?”

For many minutes, Gavin couldn’t even remember what the familiar voice was talking about. He tried to unravel what she meant, but his brain seemed to be disconnected from any train of memory or thought.

  “Mr. Free? We need your confirmation to run the scans for your hologram?”

Then everything clicked. Despite how exhausted and in pain Gavin felt, he tried to nod and when he heard not a single response, he wheezed out a quiet confirmation. The shadow that had been in his vision nodded slightly and moved away, leaving the light to hit Gavin’s eyes. In what seemed like seconds, there was a bright blue light. It seemed to encase the room in its soft glow, and flickered – almost as though there was a television on in a darkened room.

The sound of his oxygen mask was drowned by a small whirring drone, almost like a helicopter. It reminded him distantly of the time he’d dropped the toy one on Michael’s head during editing. He decided that he’d have to try that again, just to see if it was as difficult as he’d made out.

Thoughts began to drift in and out of his head in languid paces. He remembered reading about this before he signed the documents. The machine that was attached just behind him to his bed had a small, camera-like piece on the front. That was the part that was scanning him. Learning every crevice of him so it could be replicated later.

Distantly, he felt a small chill on his skin and remember being told it was a common and minor side-effect of the rays as they delved into his body. He wondered then where Michael had gone. He couldn’t remember him leaving, but then a spot on his forehead seemed to almost tingle and he gradually realised.

That artificial blue glow dowsed Gavin in his hospital bed for what seemed like an age, and then everything filtered down to black, and he could hear the hissing sound from his oxygen tank again. There was voices, dismissing and satisfied, and he figured that the scan had been successful. What he could only think were Doctor’s moved towards him then, but their attention was elsewhere. He heard the machine above him making noises, like buttons being pressed. The lights in the room hadn’t been switched back on, but Gavin’s eyesight was gradually adjusting with each breath of air, the first thing he could make out was the machine looming over him, dark but with a glowing blue monitor.

The device must have been adjustable to some extent, because Gavin felt as though a small screen had been tilted and moved over his head. He stared up and blinked, but all he could see was static and that same, almost comforting blue glow. His breathing finally began to regulate and he could finally tune into the noise around him. He heard a few encouraging sounds as he drifted in and out of consciousness once again. The last he heard was from his consultant.

  “We’re going to start running the second scan in just a moment, Mr. Free.”

The blue light filtered behind his closed eyes and was one of the last things he ever saw. Comforted in a hazy blue film, his final thoughts were of when Michael would next visit, before the darkness took over.

**…   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...**

The next day, something uneasy rested within Michael, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. He tried all day at work to push the unknown worry out of his head, but it never left and plagued him from the moment he woke up to the hour he finished work. Deep down, he could feel and recognise the anxiety right to the core of his bones but knew it wasn't not the whole problem. He knew that he had to talk to Gavin that day and tell him what’s been on his mind, even if it was just for the comfort of knowing that if anything happened, the Brit would leave him knowing probably the biggest secret Michael held. As he walked out of the office that day, his heart was set on telling Gavin that he’d fallen in love with him. But something inside of Michael feared that he'd missed his chance, but for what reason he didn’t know. Not until he reached the hospital.

The reception was buzzing with the noise of handfuls of patients and family members alike, and the woman at the desk almost seemed to recognize, which she probably did by now. The bright white walls and floor almost hurt from the dusk he’d been exposed to outside, and as he ventured down corridors and further into the hospital’s wards, the comforting sounds of people chatting died down to an almost sinister silence. He didn’t see a single nurse or doctor on his way to Gavin’s room, not a single family member or friend. The heavy weight in his chest and the anticipation in his stomach seemed to churn sickeningly, and Michael’s pace slowed then as he took a deep breath. It was as though he was mentally preparing himself with every step, and he couldn’t pin down why.

Soon enough, he rounded the corner to where Gavin’s room lay at the end and noticed distantly how nurses kept dashing in and out of the door to his bed. His slow pace quickened in an instant, and as he made it to the door Michael could see from the window into Gavin’s room that he was surrounded by doctors. The air seemed to escape his lungs and render him breathless, his body jerking by instinct to the door. His eyes never once left the view from the window and as the door swung open, a man pushing him out of the way, that piercing sound of a dead heartbeat filled his ears and set his stomach dropping with grief.

  “Gavin-”

  “Sir, I need you to go sit in the waiting room.”

  The heart monitor picked up once more, but deathly slow.

  “No, he’s my _friend_ , he’s my-”

  “Sir, I _can’t_ allow you to be here-”

Every little detail seemed to be slowed and numbed. The tight grip on his arm felt like a thousand pins and needles across his skin and the sound of the heart monitor appeared to be miles away. As he was escorted from Gavin’s room to wait alone, he could see a glimpse of his dull green eyes and chest rising and falling feebly. In a sense of surreality and panic, three words left his throat in a broken whisper. Gavin never heard.

Hours seemed to pass in that empty waiting room, and Michael’s heart never stopped beating in his ears once. Several people had offered him drinks and to get some fresh air, but he’d shake his head and shrug them off without even realising he was doing it. His phone had rang five times before he bothered to look, and the minute he opened his messages Geoff and Griffon had already arrived, sitting next to him without a single word. Michael only looked up from his daze when a doctor arrived, stone-cold expression in place and clearing their throat gently.

  “We’ve managed to keep him stable for now, though we’ve had to keep him on oxygen for the time being. He won’t be able to breathe by himself just yet.”

  “How long is going to be here?”

Michael’s voice was unnervingly quiet and defeated, only a hint of anger laced his tone and his whole body felt heavy and drained. The doctor opened his mouth, shut it, and then muttered words that Michael could have guessed he’d hear.

  “We’re not sure, I’m afraid. He’s in a critical situation right now.”

He heard Griffon take in a shuddering breath then, trying to compose herself, and Geoff’s grip on her hand tightened. Michael’s head seemed to have stopped, but it didn’t stop him from speaking out.

  “Can I see him?”

The doctor hesitated and let out a deep breath before nodding.

  “I can’t let you in for too long, and he won’t be conscious, but I can let you see him for a short while. I apologize.”

Michael didn’t wait for any consolations or misinformed actions of grief. He cast a look back to Geoff as he made his way to Gavin’s hospital room, feeling his heart ache at the sight that met him. He was wired up even more than before, the oxygen mask pumping life into him every few seconds. The room seemed impossibly silent as he pulled up a chair, sitting close the man next to him and grasping his hand without a second thought. He stayed there, silent and feeling hot tears burn the corners of his eyes and trail down his face for what seemed to be a lifetime, but what could only have been a few minutes.

Nothing seemed to feel right anymore, and the pain was unlike anything he’d felt. He wished that Gavin would wake up, even if just for a second. But that time never came. As he left that night, Geoff and Griffon asking him if he was okay and if he wanted to stay over, he knew deep down somewhere inside of him that he wouldn’t be seeing Gavin again.

**…   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...   …   ...**

When he woke up to a phone call the next morning, Geoff struggling to hold back tears as he told him the news on the other line, no ounce of shock overtook him. He listened to Geoff near-sob and tell him what had happened. He listened to man mourn about someone close enough to be a son.

He listened to the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. He remembered that hollow, mechanical noise of Gavin’s heart monitor, and felt himself break into a thousand pieces and a part of him fade out. As the words rang in his ears and the sobs escaped his own throat, he felt his head completely unravel with grief. Michael turned the phone off, throwing his mobile against the wall and seeing it break and shatter across the floor and felt no relief from it. He let himself scream and cry and ask himself why he’d wasted such valuable time. He asked himself why he never told Gavin he loved him.

Michael slumped against a wall, crying and clenching his fists in anger and wondered why Gavin had given up and left him. He let the minutes pass him by as his whole being shook with grief and his mind ached with regret, and knew that time would never fix this.

Gavin wasn’t coming back.


	6. Chapter 6

He felt empty.

That was the only way Michael could even describe it. He’d spent so much time crying and screaming, anger building up so painful inside of him and just wishing it wasn’t true. He was so angry. So  _mad_  at himself for the all the things he hadn’t done. All the words he’d kept locked up and hidden just to avoid the embarrassment – nothing more, nothing less. And now it seemed so petty. So insignificant against the world.

The bitterness had already found its place inside of him. It’d already replaced what he and left it a hollow piece of space. A space that was impossibly dark and endless, something that only Gavin could fill back up - but he was no longer able to. Michael just wasn’t able to accept it. Time had run out far too quickly for the both of them, and now he was stranded; not able to come to terms with it all.

Even on the day of Gavin’s funeral, it didn’t seem to sink in. And in reality, he knew it never would. Nothing would be able to fill that part of him and nothing would add up to it and make it any less painful.

Michael just wouldn’t be the same without Gavin.

And nothing could ever fill that empty, black space inside his chest.

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …  

It was oddly bright on the day of the service. Everything contrasted so much to what was unravelling before Michael’s eyes. But in a way, it felt right. It felt as though everything about that day embodied what Gavin would ever want. Michael didn’t have to be a genius to know just how much Gavin shielded himself between bright eyes and blinding smiles. Just days before he’d died, that same mask had been set in place. There was something deeper beneath it all, something very tender and vulnerable, but Michael had never managed to find it entirely. Just that alone was enough for the pain to start rising up in his chest. He was unable to completely see the part of Gavin which had been cut off from everyone he knew, always protected by that smile.

Seeing the sun shine so bright in England that day both comforted him and filled him with unrelenting pain, so deep and so horrible that it felt as though he was collapsing in some way. His whole being was falling apart at the seams along with his mind, and somewhere else, his heart.

And when the coffin came into sight, Michael didn’t even try to hold back the tears. Despite feeling out of place among Gavin’s family and old friends, even feeling out of place in the country – he let himself cry. Because the pain that drilled straight into his bones was unlike anything he’d ever known, and when Geoff’s hand clamped down on his shoulder, as though keeping him upright, it only became worse.

It was so hard to try and stop it. So hard to try and contain it all, to try and keep a part of him from dying. But nothing in his life had hit him so badly.

Every piece of comfort turned into a way to unravel him even more. Each sympathetic glance, each gentle touch, each and every  _word_ became a way to tear him open, leaving him raw and broken. And when speeches began - he couldn’t even listen. The words became a rush of white-noise behind every part of his body screaming at him. And when he suddenly thought about how Gavin would have probably laughed at him for not paying attention, the quiet sob that left his mouth was so exhausted and pained that many other chests tightened, and Michael barely even believed the sound left his own throat.

Speech after speech, line after line, word after word filled the air and rested on dead ears. None of it mattered. None of it would ever cover just exactly what Gavin had been to the world.

The coffin was lowered, and Gavin was finally laid to rest.

Michael watched as they dropped flowers upon the grave and filled it in, watched as gradually, the sky darkened and rain began to fall as though Gavin’s presence was the only thing holding the clouds back. He didn’t feel a thing. Didn’t feel the cold or the rain against his skin. He just stared, transfixed as the coffin became more and more obscured. He simply watched, his mind crashing in on itself.

Michael watched as the person he loved disappeared from the world forever.

And yet despite hearing the news from Geoff that fateful day, despite attending Gavin’s funeral and despite the pain of knowing he was completely and utterly gone from his life – that wasn’t what hurt the most.

Leaving the last memory of Gavin there was.

Because all Michael could feel on the plane back home was Gavin leaving him. Mile by mile, the distance between his final place in the world was growing further apart. He knew it was done…he understood it all, hell, his head wouldn’t even let him indulge in denying it. But Michael couldn’t help but feel like a barrier was rising, as though Gavin was still out there somehow, but was simply at home in England; but unable to ever come back.

But Michael could have never imagined just how backwards that feeling was.

Physically, Gavin would forever rest in England. Loved and yet left behind as time carried on.

But everything else was closer than Michael ever realised.

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …  

_“Headlining today, an organization of those opposing the Hologram Scheme are set to protest outside various hospitals around the country this afternoon. Reports claim many religious activists believe the scheme to be “playing God” and providing an “unnatural form of healthcare” whilst others question whether the newly regulated form of insurance is a way to give back to a family, or a way of extending a families grief…”_

Michael watched the report with vacant eyes and felt something uncomfortable squirming inside his stomach. Something nervous and anxious riddled inside of just at the very thought of that scheme. Any mention of death, even a  _snippet_  of something to remind Michael of what he’d lost just weeks ago made him sick to the stomach. Swinging his arm to the side, he grabbed the remote and switched the channel, letting another meaningless television show drown out the rising memory.

But above all – Michael felt guilty inside.

The Ramsey’s, after discussing arrangements with Gavin’s family, had let Michael take various things from the Brit’s old room in their house. There was an unspoken understanding between himself, Geoff and Griffon. Visiting Gavin every day at the hospital had uncovered something that even he’d not realised, but somehow the Ramsey’s knew – and never spoke of it.

There hadn’t been too much to take. Clothes (of which Michael had taken an hoodie;) his phone (which had been put in a drawer and not touched since;) and various photographs all tucked in a bedside drawer in his room. Aside from the hoodie, Michael had taken some of the photos – but all were now shut away in a set of drawers, and he hadn’t looked at them since.

It seemed as though the denial had wriggled its way into Michael’s head and, in a way, he didn’t want it to leave. It was so much harder to cry over something, to grieve over someone, when he’d pretended it hadn’t even happened at all.

But the serenity wouldn’t last, and the barrier Michael had built to protect himself was so close to falling apart.

It was almost a shame it couldn’t hear the glass breaking.

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …  

   “Have you talked to his parents?” Geoff asked numbly, voice cracking at just one thought of Gavin while he sat in the consultation room; trying not to break. He was pretty sure that Griffon’s hand on his knee was the only thing pulling him together. It was hard to even speak a word.

   “Mr Free’s family want to go through with what he was signed down for.” The woman replied, trying to keep her voice as comforting as possible. “We can’t reject his wishes now. It’d be the same as declining a person’s will, it’s only relevant if the patient was too sick to make an informed decision, and Mr. Free was coherent when he signed up for the scheme.”

Geoff shook his head and let out a hollow, bitter laugh.

   “But  _we_  didn’t want this. And why would…” Geoff tried to figure out how to word it all, but no words would come out. Soon enough, Griffon took over.

   “Why would it be  _here_. Why not in his birthplace with his family?”

   “The scheme hasn’t been accepted in the United Kingdom yet. Regulations are strict to keep the scheme out of the country unless it’s a very brief visit, and although Mr. Free’s parents wanted the insurance to be carried out, they didn’t want to be exposed to it.”

   “ _We_  don’t want to be exposed to it.” Griffon argued, noticing how subdued her husband was.

   “You were the people to house Mr. Free before his death. If we restore the hologram and put him into a new environment, he’ll suffer.”

   “It’s a  _hologram_.” Geoff snapped. “It isn’t real. It’s like saying we need to look after a film reel.”

   “Mr. Ramsey, I understand this is painful and confusing, but what you need to realise is that this is Mr. Free’s  _wishes_  you are denying. And although the hologram cannot feel physical pain, it  _can_  experience emotional distress if it’s routine before their death if changed drastically. They probably feel even more-so than living things…because that’s all they  _can_  feel.” The consultant argued, brow furrowed and dropping her formal explanation.

Geoff stared at the woman for a moment before running his hands across his face, feeling defeat sink into every pore of his skin and fear in his stomach. Griffon leaned over towards him slightly, hand running over his shoulder.

   “Geoff?”

Every part of him screamed to just shake his head. To refuse and deny any part of it. But there was something in Griffon’s eyes that made him think for a second. Something telling him just to go through with it. Just to see.

To do it for Gavin.

   “Mr. Ramsey?” the consultant muttered, knowing she was treading on thin ice.

The nod Geoff gave was heavy and subdued, and the consultant almost flinched, feeling the pain radiating from him.

But the consent was there.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to reblog or like this fic on tumblr:
> 
> http://teaandotherstuff.tumblr.com/tagged/of-time-and-technology


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